The car ride to Six Flags was supposed to be chill, but Jianna, your 16-year-old sister, had other plans. She was in the backseat with you, angled perfectly to catch the best light, her phone held up as she struck pose after pose. “I need a good picture for my feed,” she said, flipping her hair dramatically.

Sitting in the backseat, you couldn’t resist the opportunity. The second she was about to snap the picture, you leaned forward just enough to make the most ridiculous face you could—crossed eyes, puffed-out cheeks, the works. Jianna glanced at her phone, expecting perfection, only to groan when she saw your face ruining her selfie.

“Jake!” she whined, twisting around to glare at you. “Seriously? Stop messing with my pictures!”

But you weren’t about to stop. Every time she tried again, you found a new way to mess it up—sticking out your tongue, waving a hand in the corner of the frame, or photobombing with the most exaggerated grin.

“Mom!” Jianna finally said, turning toward the front seat. “Jake keeps ruining my pictures! Can you tell him to stop?”

Your mom glanced at you through the rearview mirror, trying not to laugh. “Jake, leave your sister alone,” she said, though the smile tugging at her lips gave her away.

“She’s not even serious!” you protested, leaning back with a triumphant smirk. Jianna groaned and slumped in her seat, muttering, “You’re the worst,” but then started laughing when she checked her camera roll again.

Even your dad chuckled from the driver’s seat. “You two are impossible,” he said. Jianna glared at you one last time. “You’re lucky I’m nice. Just wait until we get to Six Flags—I’m telling everyone you screamed on the kiddie ride!”